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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23676799">Fingerprints</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/royally/pseuds/royally'>royally</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), LUFF - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adorable Connor, Alternate Universe, Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Androids, Androids Have Genitalia (Detroit: Become Human), Artist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Bottom Connor, Canon-Typical Violence, Carl Manfred &amp; Markus Parent-Child Relationship, Connor &amp; Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Friendship, Connor Deserves Happiness, Developing Relationship, Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Kiss, Five Years Later, Fluff, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson &amp; Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson &amp; Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank Anderson Adopts Connor, Hank Anderson Swears, Minor Kara/Luther (Detroit: Become Human), Minor Markus/North (Detroit: Become Human), Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Parent Hank Anderson, Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Canon, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Hank Anderson, Protective Parent Hank Anderson, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Soft Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Soulmates, Swearing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:28:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,235</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23676799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/royally/pseuds/royally</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>LUFF, where a large worldwide company created the ultimate romance-matchmaking-app. It's been up and running for almost 100 years with no flaws. With the peaceful android revolution ending five years ago, you now have androids walking around and having jobs like everyone else. That means more androids getting LUFF ID cards. It's known that all androids don't have fingerprints. So how is it that an android gets matched with a human?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Connor (Detroit: Become Human) &amp; Reader, Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader, Kara &amp; Luther &amp; Alice Williams (Detroit: Become Human), Kara/Luther (Detroit: Become Human), Markus/North (Detroit: Become Human)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Plain Whorl</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm really trying to make this writing good. It's my first time writing something like this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>August 30, 2043</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I scan over the stack of papers in my hands one more time. The words were starting to become a blur from their size and my speed of reading. At the very bottom of the paper sat my signature on a line. "Hey, are you done reading and signing?" I look up to see the lady who originally handed me these papers. She sat back at her desk with a smile on her face.</p><p>"Uh, yeah I am." I quickly hand over the papers, letting them free from my prison, also known as my hands.</p><p>“Great, we can start scanning!” She starts with perkiness in her voice. “Can you put your right hand over the scanner?” I raise my hand over the scanner, it looked like a small black box. “Now the other one.” I did the same thing as before, now just with the opposite hand. “Now let’s get your picture.” She pulls out an even smaller-looking box that sat on a flexible stick. “Just look at this camera.” I look at it and smile while she hits a button on her computer. “We’re almost done now.” Through all of this, she still had that smile on her face and perky tone. <em> How does she do that? </em>“We should get your ID programmed while we wait for the results.” A flat green card printed out of the small scanning box somehow. She took it and gave it to me. “This is your ID, it has all of your basic information on it already and it can only be activated by your fingerprints. If you want to, you can sync it to your phone, your bank account, or your train card. This will also allow you to vote in the next election,” she explains. I stare down at it. It was turquoise and had everything a basic ID would have. My name, my birthday, where I lived. A picture of me was underneath the information, presumably, it’s the one she just took of me. There was a percent symbol next to my face and next to that was dashes, no numbers yet. Presumably, that's where my LUFF score is going to go.</p><p>“Oh, cool….” I continue inspecting the card in my hand.</p><p>“Your results are in, and just in time. It looks like you-oh.” Her voice suddenly loses all sense of the word perky with that simple, "oh." I shoot my head up towards her in worry.</p><p>“What is it?” I ask, fear evident in my voice.</p><p>“Can you give me a minute?” The lady in front of me starts sweating buckets. <em> She’s hiding something, I can tell. </em></p><p>“Um, sure,” I agree despite how I’m feeling. She types frantically on her keyboard. The sound of it filled the room. By the time it started to become suffocating she spoke up again.</p><p>“I have to make some phone calls real quick. Can you please step out for a second?”</p><p>“Is something wrong?”</p><p>“No, I just need to confirm something with your scores,” she said, like a liar.</p><p>“Okay….” I get up, grabbing my jacket and bag. Leaving her and the room, now heading to the lobby.</p><p> </p><p>When I get to the Lobby, I sit down in the first chair I see. I put my head into my hands and fixate my gaze onto the floor. The floor was made of grey sparkling marble. <em> This isn’t supposed to happen. I was told this was going to be a quick in and out, but it’s not. Something’s wrong. What if I got matched with a serial killer? What if I got the lowest number in history? What if the person I matched with is dead? Oh my god. What if- </em> My thoughts get interrupted by that familiar female voice. “Ms. (L/N).” I take my head out of my hands and look at her. “We have your results now. I’m sorry for the delay. Can you follow me?” I nod my head and quickly get up to follow her. She leads me to an elevator. I scan the horizon while the sounds of buttons getting pushed behind me went on. The elevator started moving up. I watched the ground get farther and farther away until it couldn’t be seen. <em> How high up are we? </em> The moving box I stood in suddenly halted. I turn away from the glass to follow the lady once again. I get put in another lobby, this one smaller than the last. <em> Where am I? </em>Before I can sit down, a man calls my name.</p><p>“Hello, Ms. Torres is ready to see you now.”</p><p>“I have a question,” I ask hesitantly.</p><p>“What is it?” His deep voice booms and rattles me.</p><p>“Does everyone get their results here?” My voice comes out as minuscule, like a little girl admitting to doing something wrong.</p><p>“No,” He asserts my fears sternly.</p><p>“Oh….”</p><p>“Now, c’mon.” <em> Everyone seems in a hurry. </em>I get ushered into the room. It was a luscious room full of colors. At the desk that felt a mile away, was a chestnut-haired woman.</p><p>“Hello, Ms. (L/N).” I walk over to her, stopping a foot away from her desk. “It’s nice to meet you.” She extends her hand to let me shake and I do so. “I’m Beatriz Torres, the director of the LUFF program. Take a seat, please.”</p><p>I do as she says without protest, only letting out a small, “okay.” The smile on her face calms my fears a little.</p><p>“I know you probably have a lot of questions and worries. But I assure you that everything is fine. I just wanted to give the results personally and talk to you about them.” I lean forward slightly, letting my excitement-filled fear show through my body language.</p><p>“What were they?” She glances away from me when I ask.</p><p>“You see, it’s very a very weird situation that you’re in-”</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“You are the first person to ever match with an android.” She finally brings her eyes back onto me. I let my confusion flood my face as I lean back in the chair in shock and disbelief.</p><p>“What?” I blink up at her.</p><p>“I know, it doesn’t make sense.”</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“I don’t really know how this happened. Somehow you got matched with an android. I apologize for not having any answers for you. We’re just as baffled as you,” she tells me with honesty.</p><p>“I thought they didn’t have fingerprints,” I say, my voice now sharp. <em> She has to be joking. </em></p><p>“They don’t.”</p><p>“Then how did this happen?”</p><p>“Again, I don't know.” She puts her hand up in defense. “This is a very bizarre situation. There are some options for you.”</p><p>“What are they?” I release a huff and cross my arms over my chest.</p><p>“Well, either you can ignore this match and go to your highest human match or you can try this out. Meet this android and see how this works out.” She pauses, watching my reaction. “I do want to tell you before you decide that this android is your highest match.”</p><p>“What’s the number?”</p><p>“95%” <em> Wow, that’s high. </em></p><p>“What's the number with my highest human match?” I ask much more calm now than a few moments ago.</p><p>“71%”</p><p>“Oh.” <em> And that’s not as good. It’s not bad, but not the best either. </em></p><p>“Yeah. You have an extremely high score with this android. I'm not going to tell you what to do.” She leans back in her chair and puts her hands behind her head. “I don't want to pressure you into doing anything. This is up to you.” She waits for my response. We sit in silence. She looks at me intently during this. After a couple of minutes of thinking, I speak up.</p><p>“I think… I want to try it out with the android.” She goes back to her original position in the chair but continues to stare at me.</p><p>“If you're doing that, would you mind keeping us updated? This is a very historical event in our company's history. I also would like to see these results for scientific purposes.” Her grin grows in what sounds like, according to her tone, excitement.</p><p>“Uh, sure. I can do that.”</p><p>“Great. Can you give me updates twice a month?” She grabs a pen and sticky note, scribbling something down then handing it to me. “Here, it's my personal email.” She stands and I follow suit. “I look forward to speaking with you again.”</p><p>“Me too.” She shakes my free hand.</p><p>“I hope this works out for you.” She beams at me while letting go of my hand. I offer her the same.</p><p>“Thank you, goodbye.”</p><p>“Goodbye.” I walk out of her office, now feeling a whirlwind of emotions. <em> I feel better than earlier but… what the fuck is going on? </em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Smoothed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>September 1, 2043</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I place two mugs down on to the table. One was filled to the brim with colorful, sweet decorations like foam and sprinkles. The other was simple and only had dark brown liquid. At the chair sat a woman with raven hair and pine-colored eyes. She grabbed the decorated drink with a mumbled, “thank you.” I sit down across from her and momentarily wait for her to finish her first long sip. The LED on her temple stayed at a sky blue. Seeing her like this, like the essence of innocence, with her childish-looking drink reminded me how much her name suits her. She was an android that had yet to be given a name when the revolution took place, so she chose the name Daisy. “So what did you want to talk about?” She asks, knocking me out of my observations.</p><p>“Well, I, um-” I glance away from her briefly to think of how to word this. “You know how I went to go get my LUFF scores?” She cracks a youthful smile.</p><p>“Yeah, what happened? Did you get a good score?” She leans towards me with enthusiasm in her voice and on her face.</p><p>“Yes, it was a very good score-”</p><p>“How high?!” She interrupts with elated curiosity.</p><p>“95%”</p><p>“95! That’s amazing!” She beams but instead of doing the same I just take a sip of my drink.</p><p>“I know,” I pause to watch her LED turn yellow then continue, “It’s who the score is with that is worrying me.” Said LED dips into red, but by recognition of it, it’s already back to its pineapple shade.</p><p>“Please don’t tell me it’s some kind of murderer or something.” The look of worry latches onto her statuesque face.</p><p>“No, it’s not. He looks like a good guy.” I let a hint of a smile reveal itself on my face when I remembered his handsome looks.</p><p>“Then what’s wrong?” Her state of worry and confusion latches onto her vocal cords.</p><p>“I- um,” I take another sip to give myself some time to think of a response.“Do you know of a Connor? Possibly a Connor Anderson,” I finally let out while staring at my, somehow, half-empty cup. <em> I don’t remember drinking that much. </em></p><p>“Connor Anderson? Connor?” She thinks out loud in a mutter. “The only person I know by that name is a famous, well-known android,” A humor-filled smirk gets placed on her features. “We both know that that would be impossible since androids don’t have any finger...prints…” I gaze at her silently, waiting patiently for her to figure it out. The closer she gets to the revelation, the more that smirk of hers fades away. “Wait, don’t tell me- oh my god!” <em> Bingo. </em>  “You got matched with  <em> the  </em>Connor Anderson. How the fuck did you get matched with an android?” I look out the window and get another taste of my drink.</p><p>“I don’t know,” I say lowly into my mug.</p><p>“It’s impossible!” Her loudness causes me to jump, but her excitement doesn’t make me scared.</p><p>“I know!” I match her tone, but heat instantaneously rises to my cheeks when I notice a few people look over at our table. I lean back in my seat and place my cup down.</p><p>“This is so weird.” She looks out the window.</p><p>“I know.” I watch the lemon LED circle around itself over and over again.</p><p>“Uh, what are you going to do?” She goes for a sip of her drink and returns her eyes onto me. There was a ton of thirium blue foam in the drink, so much that I’m surprised she hasn’t gotten any on her nose yet.</p><p>“I’m going to try it out. He may be an android but that doesn’t change anything. This whole situation is weird and impossible but that shouldn’t stop me from meeting him and seeing how it’ll work out with him. He looks like a good guy, he’s cute, and this makes me curious.” I let that small smile from before return to my face.</p><p>“It makes <em> me </em> curious,” she mumbles into her cup. My grin grows.</p><p>I continue, ignoring her comment, “I wanted to talk to you about it because I thought that you might know some info on him.” She puts her mug down and leans back in her seat with a small thud.</p><p>“Well, you’d be right there,” she smiles smugly.</p><p>“Also, you can scan his face and get a bunch of info,” I add.</p><p>She nods, “Right there too.”</p><p>“Well, can you help me with that?” She leans forward once again with a childlike look on her face.</p><p>“Do you have a photo of him?”</p><p>“I have his LUFF ID picture.”</p><p>“That’ll work.” I take my phone out of my pocket, swiftly trying to get to the LUFF app. I get to matches then his picture. It was a picture I’ve seen many times before, so much so that it’s probably now etched into my mind, possibly permanently. I let her see the <a href="https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://i.pinimg.com/736x/83/c2/69/83c269e0165a22e7af92b47ade58dd7c.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=https://www.pinterest.com/pin/551479916870242637/&amp;h=792&amp;w=640&amp;tbnid=C1Oei3nU-8MWzM&amp;tbnh=250&amp;tbnw=202&amp;usg=AI4_-kSdEsniGAXjzEALRNTHxAM-3sBBEQ&amp;vet=1&amp;docid=WHYotlifMQUYWM">photo</a>. “Damn, he’s cuter than I remembered,” she says with a slightly flirtatious look.</p><p>“He’s mine, remember that,” I warn with an added cautionary glance.</p><p>“I am….” The bumblebee colored light rounds the circle on her temple quicker than before. “He’s six feet tall. He’s a detective with the FBI, and his birthday or activation date is August 15, 2038.” She takes her eye off the photo and puts them back onto me. “That’s all I get from the scan.” I nod and put my phone away.</p><p>“Do you know anything else?”</p><p>“Well, he was one of the main androids that helped us get freedom,” she says casually as if it was a normal everyday occurrence to aid in a revolution.</p><p>“He was?”</p><p>“Yes,” she nods then continues, “he helped Markus by infiltrating a CyberLife tower.”</p><p>“Wow.” <em> How does someone do that? </em></p><p>“He does some TedTalks and speeches. Sometimes they’re about android things but for the most part, it’s on forensics and cop stuff.” Another sip of her drink happens. “You remember that speech I went to in Los Angeles a couple of months back?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Well, that was one of his speeches.”</p><p>“Oh. Is he still in Detroit since that’s where everything happened?”</p><p>“No, he works in D.C.” <em> That makes sense, working for the FBI and all. </em></p><p>“Do you know anything else?” I ask, trying to get more clues to this mystery man.</p><p>“I only know some of the basics, so that’s it.”</p><p>“Thanks, that’s more than I knew originally.”</p><p>Since then and throughout the rest of our meet-up, all I could do was think about him. The thought of him was always brought up with that singular picture of him that was tattooed onto my memory. It made me want to have more pictures of him get stored there. That’s why when I got home I immediately messaged him. I read the text over to myself quietly, “Hello, I’m (Y/N) (L/N). We matched not too long ago. I was wondering when’s the next time you’d be available to meet up?” I nod my head slightly, deeming it an acceptable first message. Then I do the only next step, which was to press send.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Connor’s POV</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The sounds of typing and conversations were my typical background music. For a federal bureau, it was quite noisy here all the time. I scanned the files that were lying on my desktop’s screen. It was a case about a 32-year-old woman who was stabbed in broad daylight. But somehow, even with the crime happening out in the open, it was never solved and has been left unsolved for 10 years.</p><p>All of that got interrupted when a ding went off on my phone. <em> I thought that was silenced.  </em> The screen flashed on with a message. At first, I see the background, it was was a <a href="https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d0/4a/0c/d04a0c53181c51a305f62ea02ca69298.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=https://www.pinterest.co.kr/pin/718464946779390861/&amp;h=914&amp;w=796&amp;tbnid=U3euNHVxCXGAQM&amp;tbnh=241&amp;tbnw=209&amp;usg=AI4_-kTRJjvkw3paDVdB-VdVpw1lLr6XDw&amp;vet=1&amp;docid=hsBimeNR2tjc0M">picture of Hank and me</a>. Secondly, I see the message, it’s from LUFF.  <em> Why would I get anything from LUFF? </em>  I let out a tiny huff and start to think of all the possible reasons. While doing so, my eyes wander over to the picture frame that sat on my desk. The first picture in the electronic photo frame was another <a href="https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e4/c5/96/e4c596210f4d14a3c6ee16e1d1131142.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=https://www.pinterest.se/pin/687361961852441701/&amp;h=985&amp;w=985&amp;tbnid=10ezaHYt9ZHmkM&amp;tbnh=225&amp;tbnw=225&amp;usg=AI4_-kSUSLI2vfwid7eunlWsbcLCtM67mg&amp;vet=1&amp;docid=dE9zNDQj1xrlQM">photo of me and Hank</a>. It was the first time I had a donut, Hank forced me to try one when we were on a break. We had done an all-nighter at the station for a case. A few days earlier I had received a new bicomponent that would simulate hunger. That morning, it was the first time it fully worked properly, so Hank suggested we get donuts for breakfast.</p><p>That picture went by and was replaced with a <a href="https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://i.pinimg.com/originals/78/fa/13/78fa13dd6d5f66729466be74ada75145.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=https://www.pinterest.com/pin/187743878195647037/&amp;h=403&amp;w=604&amp;tbnid=kkR8QLDVDyVQ9M&amp;tbnh=183&amp;tbnw=275&amp;usg=AI4_-kRt91XUqvrhlZ9fzm29FqdnkY40UA&amp;vet=1&amp;docid=3iCyMIose0aceM">picture of two dogs</a>. One was a saint bernard named Sumo, Hank’s dog, and the other was a Bernese mountain dog named Yokozuna, my dog. Little Yoko was still a puppy back then, he was about five months old. I had gotten him a month earlier. It was Sumo and Yokozuna’s first time meeting. The meeting went perfectly fine, they now seem to get along together amazingly.</p><p>My thoughts suddenly get interrupted by someone coming up to my desk. “Mr. Anderson?” I look up at the small blonde woman that stood a foot away. She had a blue-tinted electronic tablet in her hands.</p><p>“Yes?” I answer.</p><p>“The witness is here for questioning.” </p><p>“I'll head over there now.” I get up from my desk, grab my phone, and head over to the questioning room.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>8 hours later</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I turn the keys in the lock. I open the door, happy to be home. The weight of the workday already starts rolling off my shoulders. The sound of paws on hardwood flooring comes barreling towards me like a freight train. A two-year-old Bernese mountain dog comes up to me with a rapidly moving tail. I kneel to better pet him. “Hello, Yoko,” I greet him with a grin. I stand up and walk over to a black and white cat tower that stood on the other side of the room. Not-so-little little Yoko follows me on my journey. When I get closer, a small meow sounds off from the cat lounging on the tallest platform. “Hello, Novi,” I greet and pet the back of her neck, she purrs in response.</p><p>I move away to go plop myself down on the shadow-colored couch. Once my butt hits the cushions, every muscle in my body relaxes instantly. I lean back and let myself stare at the ceiling for a few moments, just taking in this moment of tranquility. <em> This feels good….  </em> My systems and software start to let go of the day’s trials and tribulations. When doing that, I get reminded of something that happened earlier in the day. I grab my phone out of my pocket. I turn it on to see it’s only 6:43 pm.  <em> It’s not even seven yet and I’m already drained of energy. </em>  But then I see the message and all of my exhaustion gets replaced by confusion, concern, and curiosity. I unlock my phone to read it. It was a match.  <em> That’s impossible.  </em> I study my smoothed down plastic fingers.  <em> Yup, there’s definitely no ridges or lines on it. How did this happen then?  </em> I put my focus back on my phone and read the message. It was a politely asked question of when we could possibly meet. I go to her profile and straightaway my systems start to heat up.  <em> Wow, she’s really pretty. </em> Out of a force of habit, I scan her face and get the most basic details from her. Nothing major pops up.</p><p>After thinking it through, I promptly decide to message her back, telling her when I’m free. Lucky for her, I was already planning on flying to Detroit later this week. <em> Well, I guess I’m lucky too. </em></p><p>I then go to my contacts and scroll down till I get to the name I want to see. I press the call button and place the phone next to my ear. “Hey Connor, what’s up?”</p><p>“Hello, Hank. Something really strange happened today. Do you mind if I talk about it with you?”</p><p>“Talk away.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes, androids have phones. Don't question it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Accidental Whorl</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Connor gets asked personal questions in their first meet-up.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the longest chapter yet, so it took a little longer to write, so sorry for it being so late.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>September 5, 2043</b>
</p><p> </p><p>I stare at myself in the mirror. My chocolate eyes held anxiety and if I could sweat, there would probably already be pit stains on my shirt. The LED on my temple spun frantically in a shade of yellow as I examined my outfit for any flaws. The LED has a high probability of remaining that color for the rest of the day; It's been like this since I'd woken up, I don't see it stopping anytime soon. "Do you think my outfit is suitable, Hank?" I look at his reflection in the mirror. He sits there on his bed, drinking from a can of Coke and reading from a magazine.</p><p>"Yes," he answers without looking up from his reading. I turn around harshly to look at the real him.</p><p>"What if she doesn't like it?" He finally glances up at me, he scans over my outfit.</p><p>"You look fine, she'll like it," he says nonchalantly with a small shrug.</p><p>"Should I change?"</p><p>"No," a sigh is added to his response afterward. He looks down to continue his reading while taking a sip from the can. In response, I turn to face the mirror again. I unbutton half of the buttons, just to see how it looks. The <a href="https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://66.media.tumblr.com/c495c682b34d0ff3984b978d3d31c32a/tumblr_pgo711ZD2O1vmckuco4_250.png&amp;imgrefurl=https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/90s-oversized&amp;h=400&amp;w=243&amp;tbnid=sUZY3dDMfpJGxM&amp;tbnh=288&amp;tbnw=175&amp;usg=AI4_-kT8l7grpNynoSxEXaH1wXG6LDdrjg&amp;vet=1&amp;docid=qb8gZBHUFXSMeM">black t-shirt</a> underneath becomes uncovered, but it doesn't look bad. The corners of my lips upturn slightly by this improvement. But then another question comes to my mind which forces the corners to go back down.</p><p>"Hank, what if she doesn't like androids? I know that it hasn't been long since our freedom, there are still some people who don't like us." I take a glimpse at him, he's still reading.</p><p>"If she didn't like androids then why would she get matched with one."</p><p>"An error?" It came out more like a question than an answer as if I was even uncertain with my response.</p><p>"I've never heard of LUFF having an error." <em>Then it might just be a fluke. A fluke doesn't always mean an error... right? </em>I take a deep breath, trying to breathe out all my fears and insecurities. I put my attention on the drawers in front of me. It was open a little, socks and boxers seemed to be the only things in there. It was a mixture of colors, mainly black, white, grey, and dark blue. I start to speak quietly, "how did this even happen, Hank?" I take another breath, in and out, then add, "I'm so confused." When I eye his reflection again, he's already beaten me to it with a sincere look in his eyes.</p><p>"I can't give you any answers, son." Getting called "son," gets a small smile to replace my frown. But it doesn't lift my spirits enough to get rid of my nervousness. I turn to look at him and let out a breath.</p><p>"Okay, how does this look?" I present my outfit like they do with products on those old game shows I find Hank watching sometimes. He gives me a smirk.</p><p>"You kinda look like a colorful e-boy." I tilt my head in perplexity. "Don't worry, girls loved them 20 years ago." I give him a nod. <em>I'll have to research that term later. </em>I see the time on the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table. <em>1:49 pm.</em></p><p>"I should probably start heading down there. Thank you, Hank." He gives me a nod. I start on my way to our meet-up.</p><p> </p><p>I stand on a <a href="https://cloudfront.traillink.com/photos/macomb-orchard-trail_74098_sc.jpg">bridge</a>, looking out at a river and shamrock fields. I watch the birds go from tree to tree. I fidget with a coin, that is until I hear someone's footsteps approach. I glance over to the person, it was a woman. It's her, I memorized her picture well enough to know that that's definitely her. I put my coin in my pocket as I watch her come up to me with a nervous grin on her face. "Um, hello. Are you Connor?"</p><p>"Hello, I am. You must be (Y/N)." I give her my hand to shake, she takes it and nods.</p><p>"That's me." We let go of each other and I can't help but notice how soft her hands are.</p><p>"Well, it's nice to meet you." I offer her an awkward smile and she does the same.</p><p>"You too." I take a peek at the river, then put my eyes back on her.</p><p>"So, what do you think about all of this," I ask the question that's probably on both of our minds, it's not an elephant in the room but it's close to it.</p><p>She glances away towards the river then speaks, "it's kinda weird." <em>She doesn't like it...</em></p><p>"Yeah," I say and nod in addition.</p><p>"It was impossible for us to match but somehow we did." She gives me a smile, one that looked hopeful and soft, maybe even promising. <em>Or maybe she does...</em></p><p>"There was a 0% chance of us matching." Her eyes become fixated on mine and the smile remains.</p><p>"I don't get it," she states.</p><p>"Me too," I admit and look away from her gaze, somewhat in embarrassment and disappointment. <em>I feel like I should know and understand it, but I don't.</em></p><p>"But I think we should just go with it. Y'know, just try it out." I peer down at her again, I get met with kind eyes. Despite the feelings of there being an invasion of privacy with my soul, I copy her smile.</p><p>"I think that'd be a smart thing to do," I reply. I then finally notice her outfit. She's wearing obsidian jeans and a burgundy shirt. "You look really nice. That color suits you." I watch her skin flush from the compliment.</p><p>"Thank you. You do too. That color looks really good on you." She glances over my outfit then she suddenly stops and looks up at me. "Do you have a dog by any chance?" I feel my eyebrows raise in surprise.</p><p>"Yeah, how did you know?"</p><p>"You have dog fur on your shirt." A kind-hearted smirk pulls at her lips as she pulls off said dog fur off of my shoulder. I feel my systems start to overheat, the majority of the heat going straight to my synthetic cheeks.</p><p>"Oh, sorry." I give her an apologetic smile.</p><p>"Don't apologize," she shakes her head then adds, "I like dogs, they're amazing. What's your dog's name?" She tilts her head up in questioning.</p><p>"Yokozuna. I know it's a little strange for a name," I add the second part quickly.</p><p>"No, not at all," she shakes her head, "It's better than naming him something like Dave or whatever." Her reassurance makes my smile grow.</p><p>"I guess you're right." A warm gust of wind flies by us, it catches on her perfume causing it to travel to my nose. It was flowery, warm, and homey. It was like sitting in a flower field on a warm spring day but also like cuddling in dim, warm lighting in a pillow fort. She pushes her hair back to its original position after it got restyled by the wind.</p><p>"What kind of dog is it?" She inquires, her voice dulcet. Her voice somehow comes out on top in the auditory playing field, winning despite the riotous birds that sit in the brilliantly shaded emerald trees.</p><p>"He's a Bernese mountain dog."</p><p>"Cool." She takes another glimpse at the river, presumably thinking. "Do you have any other pets?"</p><p>"Yeah, I have a cat too." She nods with a grin.</p><p>"Cats are nice too. What's your cat's name?"</p><p>"Novi," I answer and receive a look of puzzlement.</p><p>"Like the city? The one that's an hour away?" She points with her thumb behind her to a general vague area, supposedly in the direction of the city.</p><p>I nod my head then answer with a "Yup."</p><p>"Huh," she says with a shrug, "Any reason?" She crosses one arm around her chest and lets the other lean on it, letting her tap her chin with her index finger.</p><p>"I solved a really big case there," I answer straightforwardly.</p><p>"Oh, what kind of case?" She pauses the hurriedly includes, "if you can talk about it... I'd like to hear a little bit about it." A light blush dusts her cheeks giving her a beauty that could be compared to a rose.</p><p>"Oh, sure. It was a serial killer case."</p><p>"Really? That's cool," she exclaims with her face glowing with excitement. We're talking about a serial killer case but somehow she looks virtuous, charming, and splendiferous. <em>How?</em></p><p>"Yeah, it was. Not that he killed a ton of androids but-" I rush to explain but then she interrupts with a wave of her hand.</p><p>"No, I get it. You don't have to explain yourself." Another reassuring smile and I feel my bicomponents feel like they're on fire again. "When was the case?" I rub the back of my neck with my hand.</p><p>"It was about four years ago, a year after everything in Detroit happened."</p><p>"Speaking of Detroit," she detours, "I heard you don't live there anymore? Any reason."</p><p>"Well, the case helped me get moved to the cold case unit," I start to explain, "I solved a lot of cases and eventually, the FBI heard of me and hired me. So, I moved for the job."</p><p>"Do you like it?" <em>Wow, she's asking a lot of personal questions. So this is how it feels.</em></p><p>"Yeah, I love it," I answer. I let out a small breath then add softly, "I do miss Detroit sometimes, however."</p><p>"I can understand that." She opens her mouth to say something then stops herself before any syllables could come out. There's a pregnant pause and I know that if she was an android she would wear a yellow LED. She opens her mouth and lets her captured words free, "I have a question but I don't know if it would be offensive or not." I let out a humorous sigh.</p><p>"Whatever you're thinking, I don't think it'll be offensive." Now it was my turn to give the reassuring smile.</p><p>"Okay," she gives a nod but still hesitates to ask her question, "what's it like being an android?" <em>Really? That's the question?  </em>There's a quiet moment between us. I look up at the late summer azure sky, thinking up an answer. "I'm so sorry if that's an offensive question," she suddenly swiftly apologizes.</p><p>I shake my head then speak, "not at all. I'm just trying to think of an answer." There's a short pause and when the answer gets to me, I put my eyes back on her. "Well, the human and android experience isn't that different. It can be physically different if an android wants that, but emotional it's exactly the same."</p><p>"I know. I mean more physically." I revise my answer immediately.</p><p>"Well, typically, an android doesn't start off feeling pain, temperature, tiredness, or hunger."</p><p>"Do you?" She questions so innocently.</p><p>"Yes, but only because I added those to my systems a couple of years ago. A lot of androids updated their systems after Detroit to make their experiences more human-like." I nod to myself, deeming the answer as a good one. I turn to the railing of the bridge, facing the river, and lean against it.</p><p>"That's cool," she says while following my lead. Our arms were mere inches away from each other, but I chose to push that thought away. We look at each other and smile.</p><p>"You're a very curious person," I comment out of the blue.</p><p>"I know, sorry." She looks down at the brown wood of the railing with a guilty look on her pretty face. <em>It doesn't suit her.</em></p><p>"No, it's fine. I've been told that countless times too." I watch her in the corner of my eye, she shoots her head up to look at me.</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"Yeah," I nod, "being a detective can make you a little more curious than the average person." That comment makes the corners of her lips raise. <em>That's better.</em></p><p>"That makes sense," she says casually. But then there's a hiatus in speech. So I decide to take the lead and ask the questions.</p><p>"So, what about you?" I turn to her but continue to lean against the railing.</p><p>"What about me?"</p><p>"I mean, where do you live? What do you do?"</p><p>"Oh, right. I live in Rochester," she puts on a playful smirk, "but I'm gonna guess that you already knew that and you're now just trying to be nice."</p><p>"How'd you know?" I let my lips imitate hers.</p><p>"One of my best friends is an android and she can scan faces." <em>I was so worried about her possibly hating androids that I hadn't considered that she could've been friends with them, huh.</em> "I would guess that since you're a detective, you would be able to do that too." <em>She's also very perceptive.</em></p><p>"Wow," I mumble, not knowing if she actually heard it. But if I had to guess, I would guess she did just by the appearance of her now rosy cheeks.</p><p>She ignores it and answers my earlier question, "I'm a student, I'm in my last year. I go to Oakland University. I'm right now working at a fancy clothing store part-time."</p><p>I quirk my head in question, "which clothing store?"</p><p>"Neiman Marcus."</p><p>"I've gotten some of my suits there before. It's high-quality clothing. Have you bought any clothes there?"</p><p>"As a student, it's not really in my budget right now."</p><p>"Oh." It's now my turn to get rosy-cheeked. Although, my cheeks are probably more similar to the shade of a blue Himalayan poppy than a rose. "Um, do you have any siblings?"</p><p>"I thought your scan would've told you that," she teases.</p><p>"Uh, no." My response makes her giggle. If I thought my overheating was bad earlier, now it was like my system was melting into lava-like liquid. She goes on to answer the question. I ask more and then she asks more. We get pulled into a rhythm of asking questions until we speedily got onto other topics. Some made sense, like Michigan news, and others didn't make as much sense, like how did the bubblegum flavor come into existence and how many pets in the world have the name, Dave? We stand there and talk for the next hour. I walked her to her car, she hugged me in her goodbye. I went back to Hank's place with a grin, ready to tell him how great it went and how there's already a date set for Tuesday.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In my notes, I did write part of this in her pov. If you'd like to see it, just tell me and I can make it a part 2 to this.</p><p>(P.S. I might fuck around and name the chapters after fingerprint terminology.)<br/>(P.P.S. Update: I did)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Plain Arch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Connor gets more questions asked and we learn that he likes to make his date blush.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for this being so late. I actually had difficulty writing this one. I had the beginning and end done but then only the dialogue done for the middle section. I do think half of this sucks, but I tried and that's what matters. Hopefully, I'll get the next chapter out asap.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>September 7, 2043</b>
</p><p>I walk up to the tan bricked restaurant. Standing outside of the restaurant was Connor, waiting for me patiently. Right above him was the sign for the building, it read Baker’s in a cursive-ish font. There was an old movie theater sign under the restaurant’s name, it was filled with band names and the dates they were coming. Stars surrounded signs like they do with the planets. My eyes move back onto Connor’s figure. He stood there, watching the cars pass by on the road in front of us. He was thinking, I could tell, his LED was a constant amber. He wore a turquoise button-up shirt with onyx jeans. I look down at my outfit. The only difference between our outfits was that my shirt was sapphire, not turquoise. <em>Great minds think alike, I guess. </em>I watch him get knocked out of his bubble as I approach. His LED quickly turning into a calming ocean blue and a smile appears on his face. My lips immediately copy his. “Hello, (Y/n),” he says as he stops leaning against the building.</p><p>I greet him back with a hug and a, “hey.” My smile grows as he swiftly wraps his arms around me in reciprocation. When we let go, I start speaking, “let’s go in, shall we?”</p><p>“Of course,” he responds with a nod. We start to head inside.</p><p>He opens the door for me and I take a glimpse up into his pecan eyes and thank him quietly. We get in and are seated by a waiter, he places us at a booth and hands us our electronic menus. I look down at the menu, scrolling through the foods and drinks. “So, have you been here before?” I ask after choosing what I want. He puts his cinnamon eyes on me. The royal blue electric lighting of the room glowed off of him. The color was only slightly darker than his LED and shirt. <em>He looks really good in blue.</em></p><p>“Yes, a close friend of mine, Hank, brought me here once. It was to celebrate my promotion at the DPD.” According to his small smile, the memory of that night must be a good one.</p><p>“I’m going to guess that one of you likes jazz.” He nods.</p><p>“Yes, Hank loves jazz.” After the answer, the waiter, as if on cue, approaches our table. The waiter was a scrawny early 20-something-year-old blond with striking malachite eyes. <em>Even though his eyes are definitely beautiful, I think I prefer brown ones that I know, despite never seeing this phenomenon, must glow in the sun like warm golden pools of honey.</em></p><p>“Hello, I’m Sebastion and I’ll be your waiter today,” he introduces with a bored, kind of enthusiastic, if I squint enough, smile. “To start off, what would you two like to drink?” Connor and I simultaneously glance at each other, mentally asking one another who should go first. The question gets answered when Connor gestures to me with his hand.</p><p>“I’ll have some water,” I answer simply.</p><p>“Can I get thirium 246, please?” he says indifferently. My head snaps over to look at him. <em>Isn’t thirium android blood? </em>The waiter nods then walks away.</p><p>“You’re just gonna order blood, huh?” I try to ask as coolly as he did with the waiter. <em>That’s certainly, um, different….</em></p><p>“Well, yes and no,” he starts, his tone turning from casual to having a hint of awkwardness to it, “it acts as blood but it’s also similar to water for you. I just don’t need it as much as you need water.”</p><p>“Ah, I get it,” I respond with a nod. I take a gander down at the menu, it’s black and white with golden and blue accents. Looking at it makes a question pop into my brain. “Um, since we’re at a restaurant… do you eat?”</p><p>“Sometimes, but for the most part no, not really.” His sepia eyes meet mine. My silence gets him to further elaborate. “But I do have the ability to do that because of an upgrade I got. I can feel hunger but I have it deactivated most of the time because I don’t really have a sense of taste,” he explains.</p><p>“You can’t even enjoy the food you do eat?” I ask, feeling a little deflated and sympathetic. That was until a reassuring smile appears on his face.</p><p>“I eat because it’s something humans do to bond with each other greatly. I enjoy being with the other person rather than the food itself. As a result, I don’t find it necessary to get the update for taste.”</p><p>“That makes sense,” I give him a nod of understanding. “Um, where does the food go?” I ask stiffly.</p><p>“Oh, it gets lasered into obliteration in my stomach,” he answers like it’s the most obvious and simple thing in the world.</p><p>“Oh, uh, that’s cool. So you don’t have to use the bathroom at all?”</p><p>“Nope.” I see the possibly enthusiastic (?) waiter once again arrive at our table when the topic of conversation ends. But this time he had two drinks in his hand, one clear and the other blue. He places them down in front of us then takes out a tiny notepad from a pocket of his black apron.</p><p>“Hello again. Are you two ready to order?”</p><p>“Uh, yes.” I take the lead again, this time without Connor’s encouragement. “Um, can I just get some cheesecake?” Sebastion, the waiter, nods his head while scribbling on his notepad. He looks over to Connor afterwards.</p><p>“Could I get some fries, please?” Sebastion does the same with Connor’s order.</p><p>“I’ll get those to you as quickly as possible.” I take the first sip of my water. There’s not much to say about it, it’s water. But Connor’s drink, there’s a lot to talk about it. It was a translucent berry blue. There wasn’t any bubbles or ice, it was just liquid. It kind of looked almost like syrup. I remember the next question I was going to ask before the waiter came over, so I ask it.</p><p>“Are you able to activate and deactivate your upgrades and updates whenever you want?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“I wish I could do that.” I let out a sigh then take another sip of the plain drink in front of me. “Going back onto the music topic, do you listen to music?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“What's your favorite genre? Please don’t tell me it’s techno,” I joke with a hopeful and desperate look. This causes him to let out a rapturous laugh and his synthetic freckled cheeks tint themselves aquamarine. Effectively making my cheeks do the same, only a different color. I’ve never heard that sound come from him but it somehow suddenly became one of my favorites.</p><p>“No,” he says with a soft expression on his face.</p><p>“Then what is it?” I ask with curiosity laced in my voice.</p><p>“I like music that has a lot of energy, so I don’t listen to a specific type, more just energetic.” He takes a sip of his cobalt colored drink. <em>I know he said it’s also like water but I can’t forget the fact that it’s also blood. I guess androids will always kinda be like vampires in my mind.</em> “What music do you listen to?” His question pulls me out of my supernatural related thoughts.</p><p>“I just kinda listen to whatever, I don’t really care about genres.” It’s my turn to go for my drink. “You said last time that you can feel sleepiness, so I’m going to guess you sleep?”</p><p>“Your guess would be correct,” he nods.</p><p>“So, uh, what do you wear when you go to bed?” I then add jokingly, “you do sleep in a bed, right?” My slight joke makes his ever-present grin grow.</p><p>“Yes. I would typically wear pajama pants and a t-shirt. In the winter, I might switch the shirt out for a sweatshirt.”</p><p>“I was fully expecting you to say that you’d go to bed in whatever you went to work in,” I say playfully.</p><p>“A suit is a little too uncomfortable to sleep in,” he responds in the same tone, which makes my smile widen. Another sip is taken of my water.</p><p>“Do you sleep with your eyes closed or open?” Although I’m asking probably the same amount of questions as last time, he seems to be more comfortable. <em>I am too. I was so nervous for our first meeting. I was a nervous wreck the entire day before, I went through three shirts because of how much I was sweating. A result of my overthinking was that I didn’t get much sleep the night before, but miraculously I somehow didn’t look like a zombie in the morning. I was expecting some overly-logical, possibly cold, android detective but was pleasantly surprised with a big, freckled sweetheart.</em></p><p>“Closed, that’s how I shut off my optical units,” he answers straightforwardly. “Also if I slept with my eyes open, my pets might freak out.”</p><p>“They probably would, I know I would.” Again, as if the waiter had some sixth sense for this, he comes over to our table right when the topic’s conversation has ended. <em>But he has food with him, so I’m not exactly upset or anything.</em></p><p>“Here you guys go. One side of french fries and a slice of cheesecake.” With that, he leaves. <em>I've been craving cheesecake for the past week, I'm so happy I'm finally getting it.</em></p><p>“You know, the average slice of cheesecake has almost 10 grams of saturated fat.” <em>I feel a rant coming.</em> “And saturated fat could raise your cholesterol, making you at higher risk of heart disease and stroke. I know you may be a young, beautiful,” a low warmth starts on my cheeks from his sandwiched compliment, “healthy 22-year-old woman but you should consider what you eat. Cheesecake is not healthy in large quantities, and so I would not recommend you eating all of it.” After his schpiel, I look down at said cheesecake, seeing that half of it was already gone.</p><p>“You know you aren’t setting the best example with your equally unhealthy plate of french fries there.” I point at his fries with my fork. “How am I supposed to follow your instructions when I’m not even given an example to follow?”</p><p>“Well, um, I-”</p><p>“It’s fine, I think it’s cute that you’re worried about me,” I shoot him a reassuring smile. I take another bite of cheesecake and a sip of water to wash it down. While drinking said water, a question appears in my head and it makes me rosy-cheeked. Then for some reason, I stupidly ask it. “Okay, so this is a completely different topic but, uh- and this might be a super invasive question, but, um, do you have a dick?” My cheeks get even hotter after asking the question. “I’m just curious!” He tried to make his face deadpan but I could tell he was having a hard time fighting off a shit-eating grin.</p><p>“I don’t know, is the sky blue?” There were no windows in the restaurant, but from my seat, I could see a sliver of the outside world from the glass front door. I saw the sky, it was sprinkled with white fluffy clouds and was, in fact, baby blue.</p><p>“I guess that answers it,” I mumble then clear my throat. I put my view back on Connor. “To go onto a completely different and less embarrassing topic,” I divert my eye off of him for a second, “um, do you read books?”</p><p>“Yes,” the look from before is completely wiped clean. He’s replaced it with a charming and delightful smile, “it’s something I enjoy doing in my spare time.”</p><p>“What’s your favorite genre?” Lucky for me, the previous conversation topic was now going to the back of my brain to be stored and not be brought up until a later time.</p><p>“Fantasy.” <em>Surprising, but also not.</em> “What about you?”</p><p>“I probably read romance the most.”</p><p>“Why is that?” <em>It’s definitely not because of my previously non-existent love life.</em></p><p>“I don’t know, I just do,” I give him a shrug. I start to lean on the table then go to ask my next question, “if you were invisible for the next ten minutes, what would you do?”</p><p>“I’d sit here and study your gorgeous features,” he answers promptly. His answer is successful in getting every ounce of my blood to travel to my cheeks, making me feel like I was sitting in a volcano.</p><p>“Oh my god, that’s actually really cute,” I let my embarrassment out in my tone but I’d guess my cheeks gave it away before my voice could even try to. I quickly guzzle down a few sips of my water, hoping that it’ll possibly extinguish the fire in me.</p><p>“What did you expect me to say?” His brows furrowed in question and his eyes held curiosity.</p><p>“I don’t know, something that wouldn’t make me blush this much.” I take one last sip of my water and another bite of my cheesecake before letting myself speak again. “I-if you had to change your name, what would you change it to?” I cringe a little at my stuttering. I was hoping the only reactions left of his compliment would’ve been the remnants of heat that still lied on my cheeks.</p><p>“I don’t know… I’ve never thought about it.” His LED turns canary as he thinks.</p><p>“I think you would make a good Bryan.” His eyebrows raise and he cocks his head a little.</p><p>“You do?”</p><p>“Yes,” I nod with a sweet smile, “but I do think Connor suits you more.” His LED now matches the new cerulean dusting on his cheeks.</p><p>“Thank you. What about you?”</p><p>“I-” I hum, trying to think, “I don’t know.” I take another bite of the desert that sat on my plate, still thinking of a possible answer. But before I could think of one, Connor speaks up.</p><p>“Well, I quite like the name (Y/N) and I’d suggest that you don’t change it.” <em>He’s too cute.</em></p><p>“Thank you, Connor,” I say sweetly.</p><p>“Okay, now, I have a question, what do you think about most?” He asks with a playful smile tugging at his lips. <em>This man has something up his sleeve, I can feel it. What is he trying to do?</em></p><p>“Probably college stuff and the future,” I answer truthfully, waiting for whatever he’s trying to do. “You?”</p><p>“Well, recently, it’s been you,” he says with no hesitation. <em>Ah, so that’s what it was</em>, I think as a heat that’s as hot as the sun makes itself at home on my cheeks.</p><p>“Oh my god, Connor,” I mutter as I put my head in my hands, but not before catching a glimpse of his adorable, comical grin.</p><p>“What?” He questions as if he was full of blamelessness. Seeing as my hands were covered, I couldn’t exactly see his facial expression but I could bet that it would be full of fake innocence. I move my fingers slightly so I could see out the gaps between my fingers. My suspicions are correct, he sits there with a tilted head and it looks like he’s trying to fight off a mischievous grin. I cover my peephole with an exasperated sigh, but truly I was trying to fight back a smile too.</p><p>“You’re doing this on purpose now,” I exclaim with the rosiness still evident on my cheeks.</p><p>“You have no proof to back up your claim,” he counters with an impish tone to his voice. I sigh into my hands once again. <em>This man is going to be the death of me.</em></p><p>“I swear you just like to see me blush.” That’s when I felt a pair of hands grab mine and gently pull them away from my face. My eyes follow the path from the pair of hands that were now holding mine to Connor’s face. His chocolate eyes held tenderness and admiration.</p><p>“I do.” His expression was unwavering and his voice sounded like it was dipped in sweet honey. “You look really cute when you do.” The fire had never died on my cheeks but now it roared tremendously. My lips pull themselves into a smile which causes his to grow tenfold. It’s not like Connor said anything brilliant or life-changing but for some reason, I’m left speechless and lost in his dark amber eyes. <em>If this is how it’s going to be then I can’t wait for more.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Markus makes an appearance in the next chapter, so heads up.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Delta</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Connor has a date for a fancy android museum exhibit opening. Connor shows a little of his past there.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>September 13, 2043</b>
</p><p> </p><p>I sat in the audience, more specifically the front row of the audience. At the podium was Markus Manfred, the leader of the android revolution and the new government representative for the androids. Markus was wearing a camel covered expensive-looking overcoat. Under that overcoat was a black turtle neck, pants, and shoes. He spoke of his plans for the next rights he was going to get for the android people. It’s been five years, however, they still didn’t have all the rights that humans had. Most of the things he said I already knew. Androids couldn’t adopt human children and they had an extremely hard time seeking out higher education. But then the last one caused shock and a small amount of hurt to run through my body. As of right now, androids and humans legally can’t get married. This causes me to shift my gaze over to Connor, he sat in a chair that was on the stage. He’s already staring at me. I give him a questioning look, asking him if it was true. He gives me a nod but then a reassuring smile graces his features as if he was telling me not to worry about it. I know Markus is a fighter, he doesn’t stop until he succeeds, so I don’t see that taking to long to become a right. I put my focus back on the historical leader, it seemed like he was almost done. “This is a day to celebrate all the progress we’ve made but to also recognize how much more we need to do. Now come with me to appreciate how hard people had to work to get this museum exhibit into existence. Thank you for coming and I hope you enjoy.” Markus walked away from the podium and over to a woman with auburn hair. She was dressed beautifully, wearing a sea green body-hugging sleeveless dress. They talked to each other with loving grins on their faces. She kissed his cheek then they started moving from their spot. While observing them, I didn’t notice that everyone sitting around me was gone and Connor had switched his seat to the one next to me.</p><p>“That’s North,” Connor says as if hearing the question of who she was in my mind. “They’ve been together for five years.” I look over at him. “She’s a very strong, empowering woman.” I nod my head. <em>He must think highly of her.</em> He stands and takes my hand, gently getting me to get up with him. “Would you like some wine?” <em>There’s wine here? I guess that makes sense since it is a museum exhibit opening. It’s just an android museum exhibit.</em></p><p>“Uh, sure.” He leads me over to this table. It has a burgundy cloth over it and, what looks like, 50 spots for wine glasses, most of the spots were empty.</p><p>“Which would you like? There’s red and white.”</p><p>“I’ll have red.” He lets go of my hand, letting it get surprisingly cold without the warmth of his. He grabs two glasses, both were full with the appropriate amount of liquid that should be in a wine glass. The glass in his left hand had a sapphire liquid gleaming in it, the glass in his right hand had ruby liquid. He hands me the blood-red wine. “Thank you,” I offer him a smile, he nods in response. We start moving forward together, side to side, heading towards the exhibit. “I want to thank you for inviting me. You really didn’t have to make me your plus one,” I take a glimpse over at him. The smallest content smile was on his lips. <em>I remember him calling me up. It was two days ago, on Friday. He sounded so nervous and awkward, I could practically see his severely blue cheeks. He apologized for calling so late and for such a sophisticated and fancy event to be brought up at the last minute. He even offered to buy me a dress for the occasion. I told him he didn’t have to, and I bought a dress the next day. Luckily, it was on sale for $45.</em></p><p>“You don’t have to thank me. Truly, you were the first person I thought of to be my plus one.” He puts me in his view, his grin becoming bigger. “I also saw an opportunity to spend more time with you before I have to fly back to D.C, so I took it.” <em>Oh right. He’s flying back tomorrow, he told me over the phone.</em> Nonetheless, a low heat, most likely barely noticeable, spreads on my cheeks.</p><p>“Didn’t you say that you have a section in this exhibit?” He nods and I watch his LED turn Day-Glo yellow. He puts his lips to his glass and sips some dark liquid out before speaking.</p><p>“Yes. Would you like to see it?” I could hear something creeping up in his voice, it sounded like it could be, possibly, apprehension. I carefully choose my words, trying to make it sound like he didn’t have to show me. <em>I don’t want him feeling forced to show me something it sounds like he doesn’t want me to see.</em></p><p>“If you’re offering to show me, then of course.” He stays quiet but nods. I follow his lead, keeping an eye on his LED as we go, it was canary the whole way. We passed androids and humans alike, all dressed up in magnificent expensive clothing. Many artifacts of the revolution were protected behind glass. A TV played Markus’ declaration, his voice was stern and full of hope. Connor finally stops in front of a huge, long glass box. There was a grey suit, a medium-sized cinnamon statue, and a newspaper article that looked to be about him coming into creation. Next to the glass box was another television. Nothing was playing on it, but there was a sign underneath it that told people it was Connor’s first mission. Above the glass enclosure, there were the words, “The Deviant Hunter.” The letters had a porpoise to spruce blue gradient. <em>I can see why he seemed nervous, this is pretty damning.</em> “So… this is your section?”</p><p>“Uh, yes, it is.”</p><p>“You’re known as the deviant hunter?” I look up at him, he ignores my gaze. His LED dips into crimson, immediately forcing an unnerving sense of worry into my gut.</p><p>“I was. It’s what I was created for. I was supposed to be a, um, be a negotiator and a deviant hunter.” His voice wavers and I can see his hands shake ever-so-slightly. I intertwine my fingers with his. This causes him to finally look down at me with a softness in his eyes. It was a softness I’ve never met before.</p><p>“It’s okay. You’re not that guy anymore,” I say with a soft tone that matched his eyes.</p><p>He nods his head, “Yes, I’ve done a lot to get away from that. But there’s still some who think of me as that.” I gently rub his knuckle with my thumb.</p><p>“And those people will always exist, you just need to ignore them. It’s their problem that they’re stuck in the past. You’ve done a lot of good. You helped fight for freedom and I think that trumps the deviant hunter part of your past.” A small smile graces his features, just like I wanted.</p><p>“You do?” I let my lips match his.</p><p>“I do. It’s obvious that you care about all of this. The deviant hunter wouldn’t. You, however, do.” The grin grows on him. His LED finally dies back down to a calming blue. <em>It definitely calms me down.</em></p><p>“You’re right,” he says with a little added sigh at the end.</p><p>“Of course, I am.” This elicits a humorous huff from him.</p><p>“Of course.” I lean my head on his shoulder, his shoulder digging into my cheek. I stare at the outfit that stood with the help of a mannequin behind the glass. It was a smokey grey with white electronic letters on the right breast. The letters told his make and model. The well-known CyberLife blue triangle was on the left breast with a matching cuff on the right arm.</p><p>“This is yours?” I ask while looking at his reflection in the glass. He was doing the same. <em>Hey, I think we look pretty cute together.</em></p><p>“Yeah, that’s the uniform I was given. I had to wear it every day.”</p><p>“That sucks, not having the freedom to even change your clothes.” I squeeze his hand gently.</p><p>“It did. But because of that, it has a lot of memories tied to it now. For my first couple of cases, I was wearing that suit.” I move my hand away from his, now putting it on his chest. This causes him to have to turn and face me.</p><p>“I think I prefer you in this,” I say with a smile.</p><p>“I do too,” his lips do the same as mine. Speaking of his clothing, right now he was wearing a jet black turtleneck that matched his shoes and matching navy blue blazer and pants. Let’s just say he looked very, <a href="https://images.neimanmarcus.com/ca/1/product_assets/N/6/9/Y/Y/NMN69YY_az.jpg"><em>very</em> dashing</a> in it. I grab the lapel of the jacket, rubbing my thumb across the fabric. It felt soft and highly unaffordable.</p><p>“How expensive is this suit anyway?” I look up from his suit and put my eyes back on his.</p><p>“A little under $3000.” <em>How does he keep saying things like this so casually?</em></p><p>“Uh, wow. Um, okay. I shouldn’t even be touching it right now.” I raise my hand off of his suit swiftly. I would’ve taken a step back too but Connor’s hand was now on my waist to keep me in this close proximity. “Oh my god, what if I spilled wine on it?” My voice comes out rushed and anxiety-ridden.</p><p>“I’d survive that loss.” He has a tender and humorous look on his face.</p><p>“Yeah, but would I?”</p><p>“Of course, you would.” The smile he gave me was heart-warming and sent butterflies in my stomach. The urge to kiss him suddenly pops into my brain. But before I can even think to act on the whim I see a person start to approach us. Connor turns to follow my gaze, his grip on my waist loosens but never strays. Markus greets us with a smile before words. He held a wine glass with the same liquid in it as Connor’s.</p><p>“Connor, hello.”</p><p>“Hello, Markus,” Connor greets him with a polite, friendly smile.</p><p>“This exhibit is wonderful, don’t you think?”</p><p>“Yes, it’s really good,” Connor nods. I take a sip of my wine. The wine is very pleasant, it held a dark fruity taste with an added oakiness.</p><p>“We’ve come a long way since that night, haven’t we? I want to thank you for coming and for helping back then and all the things you’ve done since.” Markus places his hand on Connor’s shoulder.</p><p>“Thank you, Markus. But I couldn’t have done it without you. I’d probably still be a machine if it wasn’t for you.” Markus shakes his head in disagreement.</p><p>“No, you did that on your own accord. Even without me there, you would have figured it out yourself.”</p><p>“I’m glad I didn’t shoot you,” Connor says, again so nonchalant.</p><p>“Me too.” I glance down at my glass, realizing that throughout their conversation I’ve drunken half of it.</p><p>“Oh, I have someone I want to introduce.” I put my focus back on the conversation. I see Connor put his eyes on me. He points over to me with the index finger that belongs to the hand holding his glass. The hand on my waste has never retreated to his side during this. “Markus, this is (Y/N). (Y/N) this is Markus,” Connor introduces.</p><p>“It’s nice to meet you,” I say amiably.</p><p>“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He moves his hand from Connor’s shoulder to use it in shaking my hand. “I’ve heard about you.”</p><p>“You have?” I tilt my head slightly and peek over at Connor.</p><p>“Yes,” he nods, “Connor told me about you.”</p><p>“All good, I hope,” I speak with nerves grabbing at my vocal cords.</p><p>“Of course. He told me about the LUFF situation, and I have to say that it’s strange. But I believe that if something’s meant to happen, it will, one way or another.” Now I’m the one who gets a shoulder pat and a kind smile from Markus. He looks towards a different part of the room. “I need to go, I have some more people I need to talk to. I hope to see you again soon and I hope for everlasting happiness for the two of you.”</p><p>“Thank you,” I give him a nod of understanding.</p><p>“Goodbye, see you later,” Connor says with one last shoulder pat given to him. Connor and I watch Markus go to another group of people. It was two men that he seemed to have been close to because it looked like they were joking around with each other.</p><p>“Is he always so diplomatic and leaderly?” I ask with my eyes still on Markus.</p><p>“Yes. He does let go of it a little during his painting classes.”</p><p>“He does painting classes too?” I get Connor back in view and give him a questioning look. <em>Markus just does everything, I guess.</em></p><p>“Yeah,” he puts his eyes back on me, “and it looks like you’re on your way to getting invited to one of them.” His features held a heartfelt smile.</p><p>“Really? He likes me?” Confusion and excitement start building up in me. <em>Markus the leader of the androids likes me?</em></p><p>“I can tell he does.”</p><p>“Have you been to any of his classes?” I put my hand back on his chest, feeling the satin fabric.</p><p>“Yes, but it’s not really my thing. I’m lacking too much in creativity and skills to do something like that.” A Lapis tint dusts his cheeks, possibly from embarrassment at admitting he’s not good at something.</p><p>“If I get invited to one, would you come with me? Just for shits and giggles?” I ask, hiding hints of sultriness in my voice. Hints that I know he can pick up on.</p><p>“I will.” His synthetic cheeks grow darker in shade. But then a smirk plays his lips, “you just have to get invited first.”</p><p>“Right,” I nod with determination, “I should go work on that.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No Connor in the next one, instead we get Hank</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Ridges</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fatherly Hank interrogates Connor's gal pal</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for how late this update is. I, admittedly, had a difficult time writing this one. I don't know why but I did. This chapter will also most likely be the shortest one of the whole book. To make it up, the next one is going to be a lot longer than this one.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>September 18, 2043</b>
</p><p> </p><p>I sat on a bench in a park, looking at a river and bridge. I didn’t know why I was here, all I knew is that someone wanted to meet me here. More specifically, a close friend of Connor’s wanted to meet me here, Hank was his name. He was the friend Connor told me about when we went to that restaurant not too long ago. He was the reason Connor had gone to that place before. A couple of days after Connor flew back to Washington D.C. I got a text from an unknown number. The number claimed they were Connor’s friend and wanted to meet me since Connor had mentioned me a lot. <em>Does everyone who knows Connor know about me? I’m not complaining… but I’d still like to know. </em>I let my leg bounce wildly, letting it be controlled by my anxiety. I suddenly get pulled out of my thoughts by a foreign gruff male voice. “You must be (Y/N), right?” I look over to an unfamiliar man. He was tall and had grey jaw-length hair. I stand up to greet him.</p><p>“Uh, yes. You’re Hank?” He nods.</p><p>“Yeah.” <em>This is Hank? The one Connor seemed to have a bunch of good memories with? He seems so plainspoken. Maybe Connor likes more simple people. Wait… does that mean I’m plain?</em></p><p>“So why’d you want to meet?” I shift on my feet a little ungainly.</p><p>“Connor won’t shut up about you.” Hearing Connor’s name causes an ache to ripple through my chest. <em>Oh man, I miss him.</em> “I wanted to check you out myself.”</p><p>“Oh, um, okay.” I grip at my light jacket and start to play with the zipper that resided near the bottom stop. I feel awkwardness start to rise in me. I glance away from his stare that was beating down on me similarly to how the sun does it to the earth.</p><p>“Connor told me about you two matching. What exactly happened?” Hank crosses his arms.</p><p>“What do you mean?” I meet his eyes once again and give him a small tilt of my head.</p><p>“I mean, I know what it looks like from his point of view but how did it happen for you?” <em>I’m fully expecting him to take a pen and some paper out of his jacket.</em></p><p>“Oh.” The question knocks the memory of first seeing Connor’s face into my brain. It was, maybe, five minutes after leaving the LUFF Director’s office. After our chat, I had gone straight back to my car that sat in the parking lot directly in front of the terrifyingly tall building. Immediately after taking my spot behind the wheel, I took out my phone and promptly went to my matches. That’s when I saw him, his picture sitting there at the top of the list. My breath was abruptly taken away, and the very first thought I had was, <em>This guy is way too hot to be an android. </em>Every feature of his seemed perfect in such a human way: the spectacular way his freckles were sprinkled on his face and the abstract rebellious fluff of hair that stuck out. <em>I have to say, CyberLife did outdo themselves with Connor.</em> “Well,” I go to explain, “I went down to get my scores, and then I was told I was the first person to match with an android.” His face scrunches up in confusion.</p><p>“But that’s impossible. They don’t have fingerprints”</p><p>I nod in agreement then add, “that’s exactly what I said. But they assured that it did actually happen, and so they told me I could either ignore it or go with it.” I let a small, most likely barely noticeable, grin to grace my lips. It wasn’t for Hank, but me. I was now happy and proud of the decision I made then. “I was curious to see where this path would lead, so I went with it.” I watch his head do a minuscule nod. Hank then lets a pause full of quietness surround us.</p><p>“What do you think of Connor?” <em>Oh boy. </em>I try to adopt a diplomatic and indifferent tone of voice. If I were to reveal my feelings, it’s not going to be through some messenger boy, and I was <em>not </em>going to let my voice betray me.</p><p>“From what I know about him so far, he seems like a really sweet, considerate, funny, gentle guy.”</p><p>“Gentle?” He scoffs humorously with a smirk. “You should see some of the things I’ve seen. I’ve seen him win a four against one fistfight and shoot someone’s kneecaps out.” <em>Not gonna lie… kinda hot.</em> “But, yeah, sure, he’s gentle,” He agrees sarcastically. There’s a pregnant pause until he speaks up again. “How do you think Connor feels about you?”</p><p>“Um, well, I know he wants to get to know me better. Which is promising,” I mutter the last part, saying it more to myself than Hank. Slightly hoping Hank didn’t hear it. “I hope he likes me just as much as I like him,” I say returning to my previous non-mumbling volume.</p><p>“Trust me, it’s puppy love central over there.” The grey-haired man’s statement causes heat to flush through the skin on my cheeks. As a response to the newly found rosiness of my cheeks, the man standing in front of me rolls his eyes. He lets out an annoyed sigh then continues his line of questioning. “Now, what are your intentions with Connor?” <em>Am I really getting the “what are your intentions with my daughter” talk?</em></p><p>“I, um, I really like him.” I take a deep breath, trying to kick out the anxiety that was trying to make itself home in my gut. “I want to get to know him better and possibly develop a strong relationship with him.”</p><p>“Cool.” A silence rings through. He suddenly steps closer to me and forces a harsh aggressiveness into his voice. “I’m telling you this now, if you dare to even try to hurt him-”</p><p>I rush to cut him off, “I would never! I swear!” I put my hands up in defense.</p><p>“Good, that man is like a son to me.” He takes a step away from me then shrugs. A breath I didn’t know I was holding is released from my lips. “That’s all I got,” he turns around, “see you around,” he concluded the conversation while walking away and giving me a wave.</p><p>“What?” I asked loud enough that I know he heard it, but he ignores me and continues on his way. I stare at the back of his head, watching him move further and further away from my spot here, next to this bench. I start leaving my location, going back to my vehicle. I left with one thought and one thought only, <em>I just got fucking interrogated.</em></p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Connor's back in the next chapter and expect a lot of fluff. The next three chapters are going to be more relationship building but then we will start getting into some heavy plot stuff.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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